


Kaon - The City Of Rough Refuge

by WrittenInCinnamon



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alien Cultural Differences, Angst and Feels, Asexual Character, Blood and Injury, Financial Issues, Gambling, Grief/Mourning, Immigration & Emigration, Multi, Past Character Death, Polyamory, Pre-War, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Suggestive Themes, Tags May Change, Violence, implied/referenced mutilation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28769403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrittenInCinnamon/pseuds/WrittenInCinnamon
Summary: Kaon was a city with practically non-existent law enforcement and generally populated by mechs who couldn't care less.Starscream was a falsely convicted mech, ones at the very top out to get him.Restarting life here might as well be his last chance.(Meeting some nice mechs and contributing to a revolutionary movement is just a bonus.)
Relationships: Skywarp/Starscream/Thundercracker (Transformers), Skywarp/Thundercracker (Transformers), past Skyfire/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46





	1. Escape & Arrive

His thrusters hurt with exhaustment.

His wingtips were mercilessly assaulted by the cold midnight air.

He felt like nothing more than curling uo in the corner and crying, but this was not time for this! They were after him! He needed to focus. Focus, focus, focus!

But the far-southern wind was cold as Pit! And his thrusters hurt. And his baggage was weighing him down. And he was so absolutely slagged.

He wished his lab partner was here. He'd feel safer by default. 

Pit, he wouldn't be in this situation if that shuttle was still here.

Numerous lights appeared on the horizon.

That was his destination. His hope of refuge and starting life anew, where the biased law can't get to him.

Kaon.

The seeker pushed his thrusters even harder, if that was physically possible. 

He saw a street and switched to his root-mode, faling towards the ground, still firing, despite the ache, in order to break his fall.

He landed semi-gracefully and his knee struts hurt just a little from the not-so-perfect landing. But that's fine. It's all fine. What matters is that it was now harder to predict where he landed.

He looked around himself.

What greeted him were short buildings in... questionable conditions. And really, only sevrn stories high? Smallest buildings in Iacon had twenty, not to mention the height of Vosian architecture. The street had some cracks. It was kind of dusty, too. 

It was night in this hemisphere of Cybertron right now. The few mechs who were there to notice him showed surprise for only a moment before seemingly shrugging it off. Just as they said, Kaonites do not question weird mechs doing weird things.

He quickly ran over to blend with a building's wall. His red paintjob might've stuck out in daylight, but at night it was enough.

He vented a sigh of relief when he heard enforcer jets' firing thrusters come and go. He slumped and offlined his optics for a moment. He turned and--

He stepped face-first into something.

"Watch where you walk!"

Or someone.

He looked up to see the mech who uttered this words. He was a heavy-build, probably a tank alt-mode. His crimson optics shone intensely, in this context indicating anger.

Oh, he was fragging slagged.

"You just probably think you're so entitled to walk into mechs!" the Kaonite exclaimed. "Look at that paintjob and polish."

"Give him slack," another voice behind the first one joined. "He's a flier, he's processor-dead enough not to notice you."

Oh, it was those kinds of remarks.

"I apologize," the seeker tried his most patient tone possible. "I have not noticed you-"

"Yeah, right" The heavy-frame mocked. "I'll teach you to stop lying, you towersmecha!"

A kick was sent to his pedes. His already weakened knees gave out completely and he collapsed onto them. Pathetic! He should be better than this!

He attempted to swipe his taloons at the mech-

But he sucked in a sharp breath and froze as he felt the agony of his other enemy having hit his left wing. It hurt as Pit.

He then became aware of the fact his stash is in his cockpit.

He could NOT afford to be mugged right now.

And thus, the seeker curled up, knees against cockpit to shield in from view, finally allowing himself to leak a few droplets of coolant at last. They kicked. It hurt like Pit.

His optics were almost fully closed where a flash of light appeared.

"What the frag are you doing!?" a new voice shouted.

"Not your business," the heavy-frame growled, while still digging a heel into his victim's side. 

"Not your business my aft," the newcomer snarled. "Why don't you pick on someone who can slag you back?"

And there were no more kicks or punches aimed at his now dented frame. Thank Primus. Onlining his optics fully seemed like a good idea, so he did.

The newcomer was a purple-black seeker and was now fighting off his assailants. He was swift in his movements, reminding him of the mechs who trained to be soldiers in Vos. He dodged punches until he saw an opening and then returned the hit.

It wasn't too long before they called retreat.

The downed seeker had a hard time thinking now. The pain, the fear, the grief, it all blended in his head into one overwhelming cocktail. He didn't trust his voicebox not to produce static if he tried to speak.

"Hey," his rescuer said, crouching over his frame. "Hey, you alright?"

It would be wise to get up, say 'Yes, thank you for your help' and get out of sight. It would be wise to move instead of pathetically sulking on the floor. But he felt spent. 

He wished Skyfire was here.

Despite himself, he shook his head.

The purple seeker looked concerned. "Come on," he said quietly. "Get up, I'll patch ya' up," he promised and outstretched his servo to help him up.

The beaten mech took it, albeit hesitantly. 

"Awesome," he praised, probably thinking the other too glitched to think straight. Maybe he was right. "By the way, name's Skywarp. You?"

"Starscream," he muttered, his voice unmistakably staticky.

A funny feeling spread throughout his frame as they disappeared in a flash of light.


	2. Leave mushy-feely to TC

Thundercracker was reading his favourite novel on the berth.

It was a romance story by a popular Vosian writer. The plot revolved around two seekers, one of which believed he's found their third, but the other isn't sure about it. Of course, given the genre, they inevitably fall in love in the end, but the story made him emotional nonetheless. 

Skywarp called him an 'absolute sap' for that and the blue seeker had long since stopped trying to fight the label.

Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of suddenly displaced air sounded in their main room. Speaking of his conjunx...

"Warp, I told you not to teleport around needlessly!" he exclaimed through the closed door.

"Come on, I actually have a reason this time," Skywarp argued.

"Finding something cool and wanting to show me sooner is not a valid reason," Thundercracker reminded as he closed his book and got up to go welcome his beloved back.

"Ugh, just come and see," Skywarp groaned. "We have a visitor," he added after a pause.

The blue seeker had no time to question, as he opened the door. What greeted him, was a red-white-blue mech covered in dents, limping against Skywarp's side. The mech's optics seemed unfocused, like he was barely aware of his surroundings.

"I, uh," the teleporter started explaining when he saw no reaction frkm his conjunx. "Found him getting slagged by some half-processored dumbafts seeking a fight. I chased them off, but this guy is... out of it," he glanced at the stranger who now seemed to be analyzing him. Thundercracker would not be surprised if the mech was suspicious of him, given he just got attacked on the street. "I think he's in shock. I can pack a punch to those slaggers, but I'm bad at the mushy-feely slag and calming people down so..." Skywarp now stared into his eyes helplessly.

He was already making his way towards the confused mech. He took the look in. Many scrapes and dents. A limp. Hints of recent coolant on his cheeks. Craddling his cockpit. His optics had a panicky quality to them.

Thundercracker could practically feel what Skywarp call his 'creator mode' kicking in.

"Hey, mech," he said in a soft tone, giving a weak smile. "Can I look over you?"

The seeker held optic contact for a tense moment before nodding. He was led to their couch and sat down with a visible wince.

"By the way, what's your designation?" he asked and when no immediate anwser came, he added "Mine is Thundercracker."

The mech looked like he was about to speak, but Skywarp cut him off, saying "He told me it's Starscream." He turned to his conjunx and glared in a way he hoped conveyed it was the tri-coloured seeker that was supposed to talk to him. 

He sighed quietly. They can't have everything. "Starscream, what happened to you?" he asked, looking over some of the dents. Even though he winced from the pain, his expression was almost... calculative now. As if he was considering if and what to speak. On one hand, it meant he was mistrustful, which wouldn't be helping them.

On the other hand, at least the seeker was thinking now.

"I was attacked," he said, but his eyes widened upon hearing his own voice. No surprise, it was scratchy and high-pitched. Did those aftheads damage his voicebox?

The mech was edging on a panic attack again, so Thundercracker put his servos up platacingly and tried to calm him back down "Hey, Starscream. Star- can I call you Star? Look at me." And he obeyed, but his optics were welling up with coolant again. Primus, it's been long since he'd seen such a wreck. "You're safe here, ok? I'm not gonna hurt you and neither will Warp," he said slowly but sternly. He glanced at how the mech was covering his own cockpit and added "We're not gonna steal from you either. I wouldn't be able to recharge knowing I've stolen from a homeless mech." He paused. "Do you have a place of your own, Starscream?"

The seeker shook his hand and trembled a bit. Maybe he was new to being on the street and it was just dawning on him? Sure would explain his emotional state if he lost his footing in the world only recently. 

That certainly turned Thundercracker's protective nature on.

He carefully put his servo on the seeker's shoulder and pet lightly with his thumb. "You can stay here for the night, alright? I'll put nanite patches around those wounds and give you some energon and you'll rest. Does that sound good?"

Starscream made a sound that was probably an attempt at speech, but what came out was a pitiable staticky sob. The mech nodded as an anwser instead.

"That's great," Thundercracker said. He then slowly, trying to telegraph it as much to their guest as possible ahead of time, gently put his servos around the broken mech. It would probably be later denied, but the tri-coloured seeker proverbially melted in his arms, as if the last of his walls fell down. "It'll be ok," the blue mech whispered calmly. "We'll get you healed, fed and rested." There was a frantic nod as a response.

"Look at the positives," Skywarp, alas, spoke again, tone purposefully casual. "You've got a hug from TC over here. His hugs are the best, I tell you," he continued and made the aforementioned seeker blush just a bit. "Though that's the ones he gives to anyone in need. I much prefer the ones reserved just for me, personally," he added in a flirty tone. Leave it to Warp to make him blush even more.

He was about to hiss at his conjunx now's not the time, when the mech in his arms let out a single staticky chuckle. Leave it to Warp to lighten the mood.

"Alright, you flirt, go get those nanite patches," he ordered.

"Aye aye, captain," came the reply and a mock salute as Skywarp walked off to the kitchen area and the cupboard hosting their medical supplies. Which was only few steps away. Their flat was quite small, but it had the essentials covered, so they didn't complain much.

He held onto Starscream for a klik longer, before pulling away to take care of the damage. Most of it wasn't too bad, although the damaged voicebox suggested some internal damage they could not fix so easily. Fragging thugs, picking fights for the amusement of it. They were probably overenergized, too. That's just the downside of living in a place where law was more of a suggestion than an order.

He patched the seeker's wounds, gave him a cube of plain mid-grade and gave him a blanket to cover himself with on the couch. Besides Skywarp babbling about some gladatorial match or another he saw or a prank he played - he probably did so to keep Starscream's processor occupied, which was actually a good call - there was mostly silence between them. Their guest would give a single sob here and there, but he clearly regained some control over himself.

Maybe the next day he would actually talk to them and they could think if and how can he and his conjunx help the mech long-term.

\---

As the two seekers - Skywarp and Thundercracker, he reminded himself. It was only logical to remember their designations. - shut the door to their berthroom, Starscream took a steadying vent. 

He needed to think clearly now. He managed to embarass himself in front of strangers once and he's not planing on doing it again.

So his partner was dead. Or at least presumed so, burried deep in some backwater slagging planet's ice. He was accused of serious crimes, that combined with being a cold-construct and born into the war-caste was just begging the Senate to give him the death penalty as 'proven danger to the community'. He left his previous home forever with only as much as he could carry in his cockpit. He was sore from the intense flight and the beating he received. He was at strangers' house, vulnerable and not knowing where in the city they actually are. He was damaged, not just cosmetically if his voicebox was any indication. Primus, he was so fragged.

At least the strangers seemed nice. It was foolish to hope, but maybe, just maybe, they actually had his good in mind.

He took another deep vent - albeit it was cut short with a small sob - and attrmpted to recharge, sending a quick prayer to Primus that it will be dreamless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TC is clearly the most competent of the three when it comes to comforting others. Warp's technique is usually throw jokes until they finally smile (or more often, snap at him). Starscream would say something vaguely hopeful and then tell them to get over it already lol
> 
> And if you wonder why Star tumbled down intk emotional wreck mode, it's that danger was over, thus adrenqline crash and the reality of it all actually hit him. "It all" being grief, survivor's guilt, homelessness, being wanted, being accused of something he'd never do, literally having to leave his previous life behind, getting majorly slagged as the first thing, etc. He had a rough time :/
> 
> Anyway, hope you're enjoying it so far! Idk how frequent chapters will be, but I'll try to update reasonably often.


	3. Nice Mornings

Skywarp woke slowly, the warm frame of his conjunx against his backstruts in the morning easily lulling him into that half-conscious state. One of the only two windows in their apartment, however let in the morning light, which kept him from letting recharge reclaim him entirely.

As nice as this is, he did actually have a job to attend to.

He carefully extracted himself from the blue seeker's hold - no need to wake him yet, afterall - and stretched lazily, joints alligning into place with a satisfying pop.

He headed straight for their energon dispenser, filling himself a cube and then half another. Everyone always told him he had an appetite. It was probably the warp drive using up so much fuel, making him want to eat more. Or at least, that's been what version he sticks with.

He downed his half a cube in one go and turned around to prepare the washracks-

Only for his spark to skip a pulse, seeing another bot sitting on Skywarp's very own couch. 

His battle computer promptly consumed most of his processing power, blaster raised on instinct, his threat identification program telling him-

...it's the guy he himself invited here yesterday. Well, that's embarrassing. 

He lowered his gun and observed Starscream suspiciously following it with his eyes. "Sorry, Screamer," Skywarp muttered, rubbing a servo on the back of his neck. "Forgot you're here."

The tri-coloured seeker slid his optics from his host's battle-enhanced servo, over to the now apologetically and awkwardly smiling faceplate.

"I am frightened to know what will happen when you two happen to be able to afford a mirror," he finally deadpanned and Skywarp laughed. Sure, it was at his expense, but it was still funny. That in turn coaxed a barely-there-but-still smile out of the mech and thus they could officially forget he almost shot their guest in the spark chamber. Probably. He hoped so.

"You want a cube, mech?" he asked, tone back to casual.

It seemed like the question surprised Starscream, but soon enough he replied "Yes, please, if you would be so kind." Fancy Vosian/Iaconian/whatever-ian manners. Thundercracker used to be like that, too. They both will unlearn it completely with time, when living in Kaon. His conjunx partly unlearned it already.

To start that learning process already, he tossed the sealed cube at the guest, instead of handing it, which created the rather amusing scene as the tri-coloured seeker barely catches it, accidentally juggling it for a klik, absolute panic in his optics.

Maybe he'll need to learn coordination skills, too.

Afterall, he's already been slagged once, and not all Kaonites are particularly accepting of immigrants. Pit, he himself had been mistaken for an immigrant a few times, just because he had wings! Not like everyone cared, but some mechs did, and judging the seeker before him, he is rather looking forward to a permanent stay.

Maybe they'd become neighbours?

Either way, Starscream sipped his cube. It was obvious he was trying to appear dignified, but also that his tanks urged him to drink greedily. Physical and mental exhsustion does that to a mech.

Skywarp consumed his cube as well and, when finished, told the guest "I'm gonna go wash myself, then I'm off to my day job. You and TC will probably figure out what to do with you."

The tri-coloured seeker nodded in agreement, then paused. Thinking something through. Finally, he asked "Where do you work, Skywarp?" Then he added "If that's not too personal to ask, I mean."

"Oh," the teleporter was a little surprised by the curiosity. Then again, he too would like to know something about the strangers whose apartment he would be at. "Oh, I'm playing guard in a small shop down the road. State law enforcement is a burning scrapheap, so some businesses hire their own security," he explained. 

"Ah, alright," Starscream murmured, seemingly in thought again. To that, Skywarp simply shrugged and went for the washracks, so that his boss doesn't complain he's making the establishment look poor with his dirtied frame or something. 

As he rinsed himself absent-mindedly, he turned his processor to the tri-coloured seeker. 

They knew almost nothing of the mech. He's been almost non-verbal yesterday. They only knew his designation and could guess he was an immigrant from Vos or possibly Iacon. He also looked like he had belonged to the richer class.

And that's about it. They didn't know why Starscream does, why he moved here, and did so rather hastily, Pit, if he even has a place to go to right now!

TC will probably ask him all that. He'll find out the best course of action and do as much of it as possible before his own afternoon job starts!

\---

Starscream needed to strategize. Now that immediate danger (and that a glitch in his subroutines) is over, he can start phase two of his plan. That being, blend in with the citizens.

He took his factory papers with him. Not his old ID though, that was stained with the fact that he is wanted. He intended to take advantage of the hundreads of "lost IDs" cases every week here and blend in with those immigrants who aren't wanted and, well, actual lost IDs. He was fairly certain it'd work, since he had researched it just in case vorns ago. Many mechs got their citizenry like that here.

And then, of course, find a job and just... continue living, he supposed. Start a completely new existance, leaving the old one as just a secret memory. It felt unreal, to be honest. He certainly couldn't imagine his future right now and not in the 'everything is possible way'. More like his systems just loading forever while trying.

But whatever it'd turn out to be, it beats empurata or capital punishment or whatever it is they'd do to him, right?

And there wasn't alot to miss, really. Not like he had any close friends. Most of his contacts were actually Skyfire's friends which Starscream also used to be. Despite being shy and more on the introverted side, the shuttle seemed to attract mechs like a magnet. And he was kind and polite and playful sometimes and maybe also cute.

Primus, he missed Skyfire. 

What if they were right all along? The accusators? What if he is just a stupid, selfish war machine and it was his fault that--

He was swiftly cut off from that unwanted train of thought by the sound of doors opening.

It was the blue seeker - Thundercracker, right? - who had left the conjunxes' shared berthroom. Their optics met for a nanoklik, before the host of the house turned his sight back to the energon dispenser, this one not forgetting that he was not a robber or something. "'Morning, Starscream," he greeted, somewhat sleepily. 

"Yes, uh, goodmorning, Thundercracker," he responded, still a little messy in the head himself.

"You can call me TC if you want to. Or Thunder. Or something," the blue mech shrugged. "My name is damn long, or at least that's what almost everyone's been telling me. A cube?" he proposed absent-mindedly. 

Now, he could tell him yes and get an additional cube, but... "Skywarp gave me one earlier," he informed truthfully. It was quite obvious the two are struggling with money and using up their fuel for no reason was not the smartest.

"Oh, alright," Thunder muttered and drank his own portion of fuel.

They sat in silence for a moment. Starscream wondered if he's going to get kicked out, now that he's not endangered. He certainly didn't have enough credits for a flat, if that's the case. But then again, he did consider he'll need to live on the run for a while, pretending to an employer that he is just another citizen seeking a job. But it would be nice if they let him room with them for some time, so that he can skip living on the streets altogether. However, it does seem less likely.

"So," the blue seeker began. "I see you're more clear-processored today."

"I suppose so," he replied. "Yesterday was just a fluke, I can keep my cool usually."

"I don't doubt that," Thunder said, almost platacingly. He paused, then continued "I hope I wouldn't be overstepping if I asked a few questions now?"

Starscream hesitated. Should he let them ask anymore questions? He does want them to trust him, obviously, but he isn't sure yet if he can trust them. Just because they took him in when he was injured didn't mean they won't turn him in when there is some kind of reward involved. "Sure," he finally said, evenly, after a pause.

"Well, alright," the other mech sighed. "First off, do you have a place to stay in this city?"

"No," he replied, without second thought. If he wanted to stay here they needed to know he had no other options.

"Ok. Then why are you in Kaon?" Thunder continued. 

That was a bit harder. But surely just saying he's moving isn't too incriminating, right? "Immigration," he says shortly.

The blue seeker must've seen some kind if hesitance in his body language, because he turned his optics to the single window and spoke softly "You know, I wasn't forged here either." Starscream watched curiously as his host's wings drooped just a bit. "I used to live in Vos, but," he paused. "That place was really restrictive though. I believe I was on some kind of 'suspicious mechs' list, because when I started making amateur art, I suddenly got checked by the enforcers more and more frequently. I was... disillusioned about how our society really is. I decided to flee." He paused once again and turned towards the guest again. He was smiling just a little now and his wings perked up again. "And a good thing, because I met Skywarp here."

Starscream knew in the back of his processor that this was a foolish, impulsive, emotiknally driven decision, but "I have been accused of something I'd never do," he admitted, almost stumbling over his words. "I had to come here, or I'd lose my hands and face. Or maybe even my spark." He really tried to avoid Thundercracker's concerned gaze.

"Star," he spoke, ever so softly. "Many mechs came here for that kind of reason. You say you're innocent and I have no reason not to believe you," he assured.

It was surprising. There was no suspicion, no questioning. Just trust. 

Then again, maybe it was just Thunder relating too much and thinking that Starscream, too, was charged with something petty and rather non-harmful.

"Anyway," the blue mech continued when he was met with the contemplative silence. "I suppose you can stay here for a bit, until you can afford your own place. It would break my spark to leave you on the street, really."

Despite all, this was nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me almost 2 weeks?? That's... linger than I expected. But I also had more work lately than I expected so yeah. I hope I can write more soon and that you're enjoying this thingy so far!!


	4. No One The Wiser

Starscream had to admit, he had not expected having any academic discussions in the near future.

Sure, literature wasn't his thing, not really, but Thundercracker didn't seem to mind filling in the gaps from time to time. And trying to understand something surely was a distraction he needed to unwind a bit. He shouldn't be still so distraught. He can't afford to be.

And besides, Thundercracker is actually... fun to talk with. He's smart, but not snobish. Patient, but not patronizing. He's just right. No wonder he'd have no issue getting conjunxed.

He reminds him of Skyfire.

Starscream promptly shut down that train of thought and resisted looking through the photos he knows he has on this very datapad. 

It really was his all-purpose datapad. Carrying a few would've been a waste of space. It has everything he wanted to bring with him when leaving his apartment forever: his creation papers, his Academy diploma, that one semi-illegal article that outlined what to do to get this new ID, his bio-chemistry textbook, a dictionary of words unique to the Kaonite dialect and a selfie of himself and Sky on an organic planet.

"Next!" an unassuming purple bot exclaimed and everyone in line, including Starscream, moved a step forward. The seeker knew a cheaply made cold construct when he saw one. He himself was lucky to be from one of the high-end factories. This one here reeked of low quality. Pit, they didn't even have a mouth! Or two optics - just a line that lit up red, like other mechs' optics would. Poor one, really.

"Next!" they exclaimed again, and the tri-coloured seeker was now the mech to come up after this one finishes his business. He glanced around at the structure once more. It might be the most classy-looking place he saw in this city so far, yet it was decorated like an Iaconian middle-class housing. He wasn't sure if it was telling of the fanciness of Iacon or the messiness of Kaon.

No matter. He wasn't particularly a fan of classic architecture and fashion, anyway.

(No, imagining himself wearing a traditional golden crown from time to time did not count.)

"Next!" the bot called and Starscream walked up to the register.

There sat a a navy blue mech with a red visor. He looked like a recorder-alt, someone the functionists would probably put as an archivist. This job isn't too far off from that, really. The mech's mouth was an unreadable thin line. Despite himself, the seeker felt nervous. So much, in fact, that he felt as if his processor was being pressed upon.

Calm down. Can't back down now. Would be plainly stupid to back down now.

"Hello," he said, hoping his voice sounded as smooth (though the damage from yesterday was still giving it a depressingly disgusting rasp) as he wanted it to. "I have come here, because I have lost my citizen ID. I'd like to request a new one."

It was hard to tell because of the visor, but it felt like the mech was judging him. The pressure on his mind intesified. He was pretty sure his wings twitched involuntarily. Please, Primus, or ehatever deity listens, don't let him catch on on how he has a rebellious record. And a charge of--

Whatever the register mech saw, he must've approved, as his lip curled slightly.

He raised a digit at Starscream, telling him to wait, as he quickly took the creation papers from his hands and started typing away into a console. Less than five kliks later a metal card was imprinted with Starscream's designation, photo, batch number. 'Citizen of Kaon' now written among the data.

It shouldn't have been that easy. It should at least have taken longer, let alone the mech asking no questions. He looked over the piece of reinforced aluminium suspiciously. But he could find nothing wrong with it.

"Thank you," he finally tells the mech, placing both the card and his datapad back in his cockpit.

"Soundwave: just doing his job," comes a response in an almost creepy monotone voice. At least he wasn't the only one here with a fragged up voicebox, then.

This was really fragging suspicious. He should not trust this mech.

...But he did receive an ID.

And thus, he nodded politely and left this 'Soundwave' to his weirdness. He'd ask Thundercracker how his applicstion process went, later. Maybe the mech is just trusting like that?

In any case, he proceeded to march to his hosts' apartment. Was it now his as well? No, no, he will not think about that right now. He focused on not bumping into anyone instead.

...It was technically that he's renting their couch. He will help pay the bills when he gets a job and then what's left he will save for buing his own place. That's how they established with TC this will work. He even had a plan for where to work. Lab assistant was first on the list (for obvious reasons) and if that fails, Thunder mentioned he works at a club as a barmech and that they might be open to hire someone right now. Not a dream job but it'd do. He'd be on his own in no time.

He aborted the subroutine that tried to mark the conjunxes' place on his map as 'home'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, this one's kinda short. At least it's a quick update? The next one will be longer though and it's kinda why I didn't want to cramp this into the next one. Oh, and good news is, I have the major points of this fic planned out (in contrast to a collection of singular ideas I wanted to write), so yay! Plot!
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Appreciate all the kudos and comments!


	5. Like Parts Of a Well-Oiled Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, just a heads up, this chapter is long.
> 
> As in, as long as all the previous chapters combined kind of long.
> 
> *awkward silence*
> 
> So yeah, enjoy!

Skywarp woke up slowly, rolling away from his conjunx and stretched his wings satisfyingly. His first coherent thought was that today was an off-day for both him and TC. That meant they could sleep to their sparks' content.

As energetic as he usually was, he admired lazy mornings for an opportunity to just do nothing for a moment.

On the other hand, it was time to enact his surprise plan!

He got up, not nearly as careful as the day before. Thundercracker stirred just a bit and Skywarp kissed his forehead.

"Warp?" the blue seeker muttered sleepily.

"Yes, me, your awesomest conjunx in all of the observable universe," he confirmed. "Tip, don't try to go back to sleep."

His advice was met with a confused look and then "Wait, wh-" but the purple-black mech did not hear the rest of it, as he already warped out of the room and into their kitchen. 

He grabbed the two iron plates they owned and proceeded to smash them together vigorously. He could not help the mischievous chuckle that escaped him as he heard Thundercracker fall off the berth in shock and _saw_ Starscream fragging leap up with a startled _shriek._

"What the frag!?" the tri-coloured seeker exclaimed from their couch. His conjunx, given his narrowed optics, agreed with the question. 

"I finally have an excuse to have you fancy towersmecha learn how to actually fight." he explained easily.

"I'll show you how I fight," Starscream snarled, only thing stopping him from slapping Skywarp right there beinv Thundercracker stopping him mid-way.

The blue mech, however, wasn't happy either, saying "I'm not a towersmech. And I can defend myself."

"Defend yourself my aft," Skywarp casually turned the argument invalid.

"I'll have you know," their guest said, back straight, wings fanned out at a proud angle, a holier-than-thou frown upon his face. Yep, totally a towersmech. "I was the fastest seeker my lord employed. I've learned fencing and rarely lost a duel." Or owned by a 'nice' towersmech, it looks like.

"So you got absolutely slagged by those thugs because?" Skywarp prompted. When he received no anwser outside of crossed arms and looking away, he continued. "I want you two to be _actually_ capable of defending yourselves. And not being total softies."

"I'm not soft," Starscream snarked, then pointed to Thundercracker "He's soft."

"Yes, yes, great bark, Screamy," the purple-black flier teased, delightening in the infuriated face of the other seeker. "Anyway, see ya outside, we're gonna try out our stamina!" he added and warped out. 

But he didn't warp outside per se, rather just out the door.

"You can go, that's your conjunx," he heard Starscream's voice through the walls.

"Come on," Thundercracker sighed in response. "Do you have anything better to do today? Besides moping?"

There was a lengthy pause, until the tri-coloured seeker's scratchy voice sounded "Fine, let's go."

Skywarp smiled in success and went downstairs for real this time. He would get two goals in one action - make sure his roommates ain't wimps and keep Screamer from isolating himself. Sweet as gold.

\---

"Frag- Kaon- and frag- Skywarp-!" Starscream huffed as they ran in laps. Yeah, maybe the tri-coloured seeker was fast in the air, but his pedes sure as Pit weren't used to having to work as well.

"Gladly!" Skywarp exclaimed and grinned seeing Thundercracker muttered something like 'I'm your conjunx, son of a glitch'. Priceless.

No sooner had the purple mech turn his head forwads, a stray poster carried by the wind hit his face. He could hear Starscream wheezing out a laugh, just to spite him.

He stumbled as he tore off the offending sheet of aluminium and read it's contents reflexively.

He expected either a flier for some new bar or club or casino or even just a shop, or a piece of functionist propaganda (the ones telling mechs they were just parts of a 'great machine' were the creepiest in his humble opinion).

He did not expect this. 

' _You are being deceived_ ' was painted on the top in bold purple. Below was an image of simplistic art style, depicting a happy family of three grounders - clearly a sports car working-caste with a femme-caste and a sparkling in-between them. A classic model of family the government liked to depict. Unsettingly, their house seemed to be build upon a pile of dying mechs. Some clearly had pickaxe servos, others had wings, yet another group seemed to have serial numbers on their body.

If the poster's goal was to make him feel uneasy, it did its job splendidly.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts by a familiar blue grounder running right by him. "Yo, Skywarp!" he greeted, an enthusiastic grin on his face.

"Hi, Blurr," the seeker replied and quickly checked if he hadn't sped up to keep up with the other mech, just for the benefit of his roommates trailing behind him.

Meanwhile, the grounder looked on the poster still in his servos for a nanoklik and his optics brightened and he launched into a monologue that was almost too fast-spoken to follow. "I hope you're not reading this scrap, are you? Or, like, taking part in rallies or listening to the speeches of that old mech or in fact have anything to do with the pits at all! I'm pretty sure they're overblowing the issue anyway and they look like violent mechs and I, you know, hate unneccessary suffering!"

Blurr and him were roughly the same age. They used to play together as sparklings, actually, and then casually chatted at times as grown-ups. The mech had a big spark, really! He was just... _ignorant_ at times. Being from an owner-caste family and all.

"Nah, it just flew right into my face," he told Blurr, waving his servo dismissively. "I haven't even heard about this... campaign?"

"You've been living under a rock that past week??" the speedster questioned.

"I'm not really into politics, Blurr," he muttered the words almost lost to the wind around them.

"So you haven't heard of the Dece--"

"If you finished chit-chatting!" Starscream cut the grounder off with a shriek. "Would you hear me out, saying we should take a break?"

"Oh, sure," Skywarp simply agreed and stopped immadiently. 

Blurr turned around and looked to the two seekers behind them, as if he just noticed. "Oh, hi, TC," he gave a wave with a smile, which, despite the exhaustion, Thundercracker returned. "And you are?" the grounder asked, turning his attention yo the tri-coloured seeker.

"None of your Primus-damn busine--"

"He's Starscream," Skywarp cut him off before he irreversably painted himself as a mean mech to someone closest Skywarp had to a friend outside of his literal conjunx.

"Mech, seeker names are weird. Two words compiled instead of one and always just something to do with sky or weather or flying. You winged bots ever thinking of anything else?" Blurr joked.

Starscream took a deliberately deep vent and said "If you must know, in Vosian the word for 'sky' is just by one line above the third glyph different from word 'freedom', so using it has a metaphorical value."

"That's..." the grounder hesitated for a moment. "That's actually cool!" he exclaimed. "Is that double meaning common in your language? Or is it just a few words with significance like that? What does your name mean? Is 'star' an allegory to ambition or something?"

Starscream looked as if his processor short-circuited from the flow of questions it was unable to process all at once. Yep, that's Blurr for ya.

The speedster didn't even wait for an amwser before turning to Skywarp with a guilty pout. "I'm sorry I mocked your name, 'Warp."

If TC weren't occupied with regulating his vents, he probably would've laughed at the sudden turn-around.

\---

It's been a week now, since Skywarp just popped into their apartment with a random mech from the street.

As much as Thundercracker saw it as an obnoxiously risky move... He couldn't say he regreted it happening. Starscream was fun, despite sometimes acting like a walking superiority complex. And, well, the blue seeker never could resist caring for others, no matter how hard he tried not to. It is exactly what happened with Skywarp, too. Kind of obnoxious, hot-helmed, easily seeking a fight... But Thundercracker loved every cubic milimeter of his spark.

He shook his head, drawing himself back to reality. He was writing an article for the local news site. It wasn't his dream job, didn't offer too much artistic freedom, but it was work he could do from home at his own hours and it made him credits. Much better than his second job, anyway.

And Starscream would get a job today too. He decided he'd try for lab assistant, given his previous education (oh yeah, he was a genius scientist, that's new). He hoped that paid well, because previously they earned just enough to keep themselves afloat and having 150% of their previous fuel consumption now was certainly straining their funds. Not to mention that energon prices had been steadily rising for lunar cycles now.

As if on cue, he heard clicking of heels in the corridor, the sound a tell-tale sign of a seeker. For a short moment, he tried to imagine what an excited Starscream would look like. Would he be practically bouncing on his thrusters like Skywarp? (Which was adorable, by the way.) Or would he keep up the mightier-than-thou attitude he's been trying to put on ever since the initial meltdown, pretending to be unaffected? Or maybe--

His musings were cut violently as the door was _slammed_ open by no other than the tri-coloured mech himself.

The first thing Thundercracker noticed were the hiked wings, which pretty much yelled 'I won't hesitate to kill' to anyone nearby. Then the flexing claws, the rigid posture and the ugly scowl marring his face. He was twitching with obvious anger.

"So it didn't go well?" the blue flier risked it.

Starscream snickered dryly. "Oh, no," he said in a sarcastic sweet tone. "It was going just fine! The enitled piece of scrap told me I'm the 'smartest seeker he'd seen', which doesn't sound functionist at all, right? Anyway, I'm supposedly smart, quick-witted and 'charming'." he grumbled.

"So he did hire you...?" Thundercracker tried, careful not to piss the other more.

"Oh, no, no, you see!" he exclaimed, the sweet-flavoued venom rolled off his glossa easily. I was giving them my pares to sign and they said, an I quote, 'they don't hire cold constructed bots'!"

And that's the moment all the anger became understandable, at least im Thundercracker's eyes. Having something snatched away from you because of how you were built is very, very stupid. He himself was made the natural way, having creators and all, but he always felt for those folks who weren't. They didn't deserve to be excluded on top of not having a sparklinghood.

"That's stupid," he said in the wake of not knowing what else he could even tell him.

"Wow, you discovered a new planet there, Thunder," he sneered, then sighed exhaustedly and started pacing around the room. The blue seeker knew Starscream probably had a ton of pent up energy right now, but the erratic movement _was_ dizzying.

There was a moment of tense silence between them, before Thundercracker proposed "Wanna go for a flight?" When he wasn't immadiently rejected, he added "It always helped me to process negative stuff."

Starscream paused and stared at him as if analyzing his face, trying to get a look at his very spark through his optics. It locked the blue seeker up like a stun gun, somehow. 

"Fine," he finally said and turned on his heel towards the door. It took a nanoklik for it to down on Thundercracker that he was expected to follow.

\---

He stared at the afternoon Kaon beneath them.

Mechs going about their daily business, groups of friends chatting, sparklings running around here and there, under watchful gazes of their creators. Really, they were flying over one of the main streets, so a fairly well-off area. Then again, the city wasn't the richest there was on Cybertron, despite mining up a lot of enrgon. No pompous mansions to see here.

Either way, Thundercracker liked people-watching.

And he hoped Starscream got as absorbed in the mechs below as he did himself and that's what his rigid positioning and silence meant, not that he was envisioning violence towards that lab's staff.

.:So:. Thundercracker tried over their commlinks. .:How do you like Kaon so far?:. He knew it was a blatant attempt at a nothing conversation, but it was less awkward than this silence, he supposed.

.:This city is falling apart under our feet:. Starscream replied, disdain oozing from every glyph. .:But it is better than being dead or having no face, so I'll function.:.

.:What do they think you did, if you are so sure you'd be either executed or empurated?:. the blue mech asked curiously. It must be something serious, if he thinks that's his only options. There was no lifetime imprisonment penalty on Cybertron (it would be a waste of resources, given their lifespans), but many crimes did not warrant death penalty. Or empurata. That one was for mechs who 'violated nature' and thus were to be mutilated to show it. Thundercracker had always found it disgusting, even if the mech in question is actually guilty.

.:None of your damn business:. came the reply after just a nanoklik of pause.

That shut down any conversation for a good few kliks. The blue seeker presumed (and kind of hoped) it was uncomfortable on both ends, not just his.

It was proven when Starscream commed hkm again, asking .:So I don't recognize this part of the city. Where are we?:.

Thundercracker looked around, surprised that they travelled quite a distance without him noticing. He looked for any landmarks.

.:Oh, look, there's the place I work at:. he said and gestured with a tilt to a building which had a bright neon sign saying 'The Dirty Cog' and then in a smaller font 'open all decaorn'. He was not proud of the place, but, again, it payed decent.

.:At a nightclub?:. the tri-coloured mech sounded disbelieving.

.:If I can serve engex for a few hours and get decent credits for that, I will:. he paused, then debated if he should... .:They'd probably hire another mech. It's quite a big place and additional servos are usually welcomed.:.

\---

Turns out, Pedefall was glad to take in an additional waiter. Especially one who 'looked like _that_ '. Really, on some days Thundercracker swore there were two kinds of grounders - ones who see seekers as war machines and ones who saw seekers as shareware. 

Even if Starscream really was, uh, aesthetically pleasing. 

Nonetheless, the tri-coloured seeker didn't seem to be offended. Actually, quite the opposite, he actually embraced the stereotype while at work, becoming the interface protocols activating waiter serving drinks to the guests. Even Lyzack, the femme that has been doing exactly that as long as Thundercracker knew her, seemed slightly jealous.

But as the week went on and Thundercracker observed his new co-worker, it was... strange. Methodical. Like he tried to figure something out. Was he trying to implement scientific method to being a waiter? Knowing Starscream, he wouldn't be surprised.

And so, he watched as the seeker walked with a sway to his hips, drawing drunken gazes towards himself. He watched as the mech leaned over tables and wiggled his cockpit while offering the wealthier patrons another shot of the strong, Kaonite high-grade. 

"Don't tell me you're ogling at him too," Lyzack muttered, as Thundercracker wiped an used cube.

"I'm conjunxed," he said absent-mindedly and kept following Starscream out of the corner of his optics. He _was_ pretty, but he had Skywarp and that's that. The purple-black seeker had already said he didn't understood polyamory. And no wonder, it was really only common in places like Vos or Praxus, while in some places it was looked down upon, like here in Kaon, or outright outlawed in Iacon. And it was more than attraction with Sky. He loved every last screw of the silly mech.

But still, credit where it's due, Starscream knew how to move those hips and the revving engines of grounders in the club were a clear sign he's not the only one to think that. Especially from the tables where mechs wasted their money on gambling. The tri-coloured seeker seemed particularly attentive towards those ones. Maybe he worked out they'd be the most likely to spend their credits carelessly?

Anyhow, Starscream was earning his energon now, so that was definitively good. They were back to actually having reserves instead of zeroing out and Thundercracker certainly couldn't complain about that. 

\---

So Skywarp probably shouldn't be happy someone's conjunx had caught cosmic rust.

But it did mean Niobia was closing her business for a few days, which meant Skywarp would have a break, and she promised it'd be a paid one at that. He had to be at least a bit happy, okay?

He was, however, anticipating a boring evening, as both Thundercracker and Starscream had work today. So, needless to say, he was quite surprised when the tri-coloured seeker suggested- nay, ordered him to to come along.

"Okay, do you know how to play any gambling card games?" the seeker asked in a whisper.

"Of course," he anwsered immadiently, then paused on second thought. "Why?"

"I want you to play this afternoon. And win," the other said, as if it was the easiest thing in the World. 

"You do realise we don't have too much credits to spare, right?" Skywarp raised his optical ridge skeptically. What was that seeker thinking?

"I swear, if this fails, I will cut down on my own fuel only," came a rushed reassurance. "But I'll make sure you won't lose."

That got his attention. "How?" he asked, a mischievous smile fighting to take over his lips.

They entered the establishment and noises of mechs celebrating were filling up his sensory database. It took a nanoklik to dampen it down to bearable levels, but when he did and was processing, you know, _visuals_ again, he saw Starscream placing his servo on Skywarp's shoulder and with a smirk that could just as well belong on the Unmaker himself, he whispered "Look to my cockpit."

And just like that, he turned around and to the staff room.

Skywarp looked over towards his conjunx, but Thundercracker seemed just as confused. So he wasn't in on it, obviously, since he wasn't a good liar in the slightest.

He had to trust Starscream that whatever he scheme he worked out will work.

On one hand, he knew the tri-coloured seeker to be smart. He did claim, afterall, to be a scientist. And pretty insistently that he is an intellectual-caste at spark, no matter what his factory claims. So he must know what he's doing, right?

On the other hand, this is literally a stranger he'd found on the streets, and not really the kindest one, too. He could just as well scam them out of all the credits and then some.

But... the seeker hadn't yet hurt anyone, not really, did he? Sure, he threw snide comments and death threats like they were a greeting, but never more. So, Skywarp supposed, he couldn't be cruel, right?

He decided to trust Starscream.

And so, he joined a table of mechs, preparing to play blackmech. They were a diverse bunch, kind of expected in Kaon. A blue heavy-frame, a smaller, yellow grounder alt, a brown-ish beast-former and a purple flier alt who seemingly didn't have a mouth. The second and third one seemed to be of the wealthier kind.

"Alright, gentlemechs," the yellow one began in a casual tone, his purple optics scanning all the gathered. "You know the rules. I'm gonna shuffle those cards right now and give them out. I'm the dealer. Any of you wins and that mech takes the bet credits. None do and I win. Everyone good?"

Everyone nodded, so Skywarp did as well. He tried his best to understand how this is gonna go, focus solely on the smaller mech's words. His warp drive took up alot of his CPU, so it was hard to focus at times, but he had learned to manage. So with the dealer's words analyzed and general rules of blackmech remembered, he was ready to play, just as the cards had been dealt out to him.

Not gonna lie, he had pretty good starting cards. But not to the point of guarenteeing victory. He _could_ risk it, but then he'd lose all the betting credits he had. What did Starscream say about being sure to win again?

He looked up to find the tri-coloured seeker and there he was, catching optic-contact for a nanoklik before walking over to their table. Seductively. Holy frag, was he good.

"You must be using all of your CPU to play this smart, huh, sweetie?" Starscream said in a playfully devilish voice, then leaned over the yellow mech's shoulder, his lips near the other's audial. "Would you like another drink? You must be thirsty." His whole frame was positioned in just the way to make it attractive.

Besides his wings. Those were borderline agressive, and not in the playful way. An absolute turn off. Of course, none of the grounders by the table would be the wiser. 

It was meant as a signal to Skywarp exclusively.

_'Look at my cockpit.'_

So the teleporter did. At the first nanoklik, he didn't know what the Pit it meant but then. _Then._

He could see the yellow mech's cards reflected in the glass.

Oh, this was going to be _great._

\---

By the fourth round Skywarp won, the yellow mech started getting suspicious. On the other hand, the seeker could as well pull out by now, as his winning were worth almost half a vorn of his earnings (stupid rich grounders making big, risky bets).

He sat out rest of his roommates' shifts all giddy and excited. They had never had so much money to spare! He caught optic-contact with Starscream and the mech grinned mischeviously. Then he proceeded to sit on the bar stool right in front of TC and grin madly as well.

"You saw that?" he asked, looking right into his conjunx's optics.

There was a pause, before the blue seeker let his curl just a bit "Yes, Sky, I did." He took an invent, as if contemplating his next words. "While I do not commend cheating... it is nice we got the credits. Well played, you two."

"How about a drink for your beloved trickster, then?" the purple-black flier asked, a digit tracing the edge of his lover's arm.

"You're not gonna spend it all on booze," Thundercracker said firmly, his optics narrowed, as if he was the fun police.

"I'm not spending it _all_ on booze, I just want a good quality engex once in a vorn!" he complained, moving his wandering fingers to his conjunx's cheek for greater effect. He made sure to make his best turbopuppy-optics, too.

"Fine," the blue mech sighed. "I'll get a cube. Just for you," he added the last part with a fond smile.

One cube turned into three by the end of the two seekers' shift and Skywarp was, needless to say, just a _bit_ overcharged. 

"Starscream, ya mad genius," the teleporter slurred as they exited The Dirty Cog. "Lemme give ya a congratulatory kiss!"

"Not interested," the tri-coloured seeker said simply.

"Oh, come on, TC won't mind! Right, sweetspark?" he asked. 

"I will mind," Thundercracker traitorously admitted.

"I don't care if he minds, because I'm not interested," Starscream said more sternly.

"A good kiss? Maybe a good frag? You sure can look like you're interested," he drunkedly argued.

"I was actually never interested in interfacing," the scientist admitted, some of the edge in his voice leaving in favour of hesitance. "I just know how to use my atributes, I suppose."

"Oh, trust me, you do," Skywarp slurred again with a smirk in his drunken haze, earning himself a smack in the back of the helm from his conjunx. The teleporter only laughed, as it was totally worth it in his inebriated processor.

"I'm sorry for him," sighed Thundercracker, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You should be the one someone apologized to," Starscream just shrugged and turned to watch the neon signs they passed. This part of Kaon was rich in nightlife. Overcharged mechs behaving stupidly was present not only in their group.

"Oh, let's go to a club to celebrate!" Skywarp suddenly exclaimed and didn't even give his roommates a nanoklik to think as he grabbed their servos and warped them to the front of what was in the teleporter's opinion the best secret nightclub around. 

He knocked on the door and a mech looked through a peeper for just a nanoklik, before unlocking the door.

"Warp, my mech," the gray shuttle greeted. "Good to see ya around again! See you've brought some friends?" he indicated Starscream and Thundercracker here.

"Oh yeah, my conjunx, TC, I've mentioned him before," he pointed to the blue mech. "And that's my new... friend? Screamer."

"Well, nice to meet you two. And always cool to have more fliers around," he added as he opened the door wider, revealing a mass of mechs. Some playing music on a barely elevated stage. Some dancing chaotically. Some drinking high-grade. "Don't worry, discrimination is against the place's rules, so you can just be yourself," he added with a smirk, and they stepped in, gradually, letting Skywarp's processor get used to the volume.

\---

Starscream was, how to say it, kinda lost.

Yes, he's been to parties before. No, not this kind of party.

And so, he tried to stick to his two roommates and follow their example. Or, as he quickly deduced, Skywarp's example, since Thundercracker seemed to be doing the exact same thing as Starscream himself.

But then the teleporter caught his conjunx's servo and pulled him in, servos on shoulders, a flirtatious smirk.

Three's a crowd.

So he glanced sideways and found an empty bar stool to sit on and wait. He's been here only about 15 orns and besides observing people at the bar (where most of his attention was on something else than cultural differences, mind you) and glimpses of the people on the street during the ridiculous morning workouts, he knew next to nothing about what customs are present. What if he'll be offending people _without_ purposefully choosing to do so?

"See the lovebirds ditched ya'?" the shuttle from before said conversationally. He was standing behind the counter, so the seeker supposed he was the owner of the likely illegal club.

"Seems so," he muttered in response, watching the only - it just dawned on him - two mechs who he could say he knew right now, as they danced absorbed in eachother, their foreheads touching and servos wrapped around oneanother, swaying lazily despite the music clearly being meant for something faster.

"Well, at least you can find a beautiful mech for yourself in the meantime, eh?" the gray bot said with a chuckle, casually placing a familarly big servo on Starscream's shoulder.

He hated it.

"I suppose so," he said, perhaps too hastily, subtly removing the intruding appendage. He then took a deep vent and asked "Got any good high-grade around here?"

Not 15 kliks later, he was already feeling buzzed. Note for the future Starscream, Kaonite stuff is stronger by default. His state of haziness was not aided by the weird instrument one of the mechs - a brown-black heavy-frame - was playing, which made low pounding sounds. The music wasn't bad, just... _different._ Far from the smooth and breezy sounds of Vosian, or gentle classiness of Iaconian.

He was pretty much zoning out, when Skywarp suddenly appeared right in front in front of him. He hadn't teleported here though... he thought.

"Heya, Screamy!" he exclaimed. He might be more overcharged than before, though the tri-coloured seeker had difficulties judging how much was high-grade and how much was just Skywarp being Skywarp. "Enjoying yourself?"

Starscream nodded politely in response, as actually analyzing it would probably take longer than appropriate.

"Awesome!" the purple-black mech exclaimed, then went on to say "TC said he needs to take a break. Wanna dance with me?"

He wasn't sure how to dance here. He didn't care at the moment. "Sure," he said, and no sooner than he did, he got pulled upright by the teleporter and dragged nearer to the dancing crowd.

He still wasn't sure what to do, but after looking at Skywarp's chaotic, wild movements, he figured that anything goes. 

Just dancing whatever felt weird. New. So chances were, he looked like an idiot. But he _tried_ , okay?

The other flier grabbed his servo and pulled him into a spin. That was more familiar, almost like the dances he'd learned for vorns. He could almost offline his optics and imagine he was on a ball in Vos.

The spell broke when Skywarp's servos wrapped around Starscream's waist and he cought on to his forearms from the sudden loss of balance. Their faces were close.

There was something in Skywarp. Something in the uncaring, playful smile, that made it seem unreal. _Real mechs aren't this carefree_. And yet, he was there, real, servos on his hips like it was the most normal thing between friends. (Did they even count as _friends_ yet?) His optics seemed like just friends joking around, but there was something _softer_ there, that made his spark skip a pulse. The pounding music and sounds of mechs partying mushed together and there was just him and Skywarp in the World, so close--

Firm black servos pulled them away from eachother suddenly.

It took a nanoklik to identify the mech as Thundercracker. _Skywarp's conjunx,_ Starscream reminded himself. Primus, what in the Pit took over him there?

"Okay, you two are clearly too drunk to think clearly," the blue seeker said sternly. He was, quite possibly, pissed with them for almost-maybe-flirting like that.

"Oh, come on, TC, I'm just having fun-" the teleporter tried.

But he was swiftly cut off by his conjunx, saying "Yes, of course, mister I-couldn't-possibly-be-attracted-to-two-mechs-at-a-time. You're going home now," he commanded, then turned to Starscream. "You too."

"What say do you have in what I do?" the tri-coloured seeker sneered, sticking up his chin and wings definitively. 

"Because you live in my flat and I could kick you out," Thunder said plainly, although even he couldn't resist the smug smirk that pushed itself onto his lips.

"Fiiiiine, be the fun police," Skywarp groaned.

"Did you maybe mean 'be the only responsible mech in this trio'?" the blue flier countered and Starscream wondered when did they start being considered a trio.

They let themselves be led away by 'the only responsible mech in this trio' (read: fun police), literally dragged by their servos like sparklings. Although Skywarp was giggling most of the way home (he was definitively more overcharged than earlier), Starscream was sober enough to feel a bit shameful. It shouldn't be his fault-

_(It shouldn't be his fault, it's not his fault, the Senate is wrong-)_

It was Skywarp who initiated every step! Logically, he's absolutely innocent. 

But he still feels weirdly uneasy knowing he made Thunder feel upset.

As they stepped into their apartment, the blue mech let go of Starscream's servo and kept on leading Skywarp towards their bedroom. 

Say something, anything, quick-!

"I'm sorry, Thunder!" he exclaimed and, for a nanoklik, everyone felt stunned.

\---

Thundercracker had no idea what was this about.

Okay, he had an idea, but it was stupid. And also probable, given that the seeker could not possibly have adjusted to whatever trauma made him run away so quickly.

"For what?" he finally asked, tilting his head to the side.

"For letting Skywarp flirt with me!" Starscream replied, sounding almost angry that he did so.

A tiny smile worked its way onto Thundercracker's lips. He placed his servo on the other seeker's shoulder "It's okay," he reassured. "It's a discussion I need to have with Skywarp, not you."

"I told you it was nothing!" Skywarp exclaimed, but they ignored his drunken protesting.

"So don't apologize. _You_ did nothing wrong, okay?" Thundercracker made optic-contact and it looked as if something broke within the other seeker. He _sniffed._

"You're just like Skyfire," he muttered, voice laced with static.

"Who's Skyfire?" he asked. A friend he had to leave behind, perhaps?

Between his question and the high-grade, it was as if a dam broke. "He was my friend. Very good friend. I-I wanted to conjunx him!" he exclaimed, stuttering and fluid gathering in his optics. "But then h-he crashed in a storm. He's presumed dead." the seeker took a deep vent. "And they think it's my doing. They think I killed mh friend. Some scrap about repressed war-caste protocols making me go insane. And a _danger_ to those around me." he said the last part so quietly, it was barely above a whisper. He was looking at his own shaky servos, as if they held all the anwsers.

Thundercracker's own processor was no better, the only thought was wrapping his free arm around Starscream's shoulders. In the first show of vulnerability since he came under their roof, the tri-coloured seeker clinged back, qlmost desperately. 

"It's okay," Thundercracker muttered, while squeezing Skywarp's servo for his own comfort. "We believe you. You wouldn't do such a thing, right?"

Starscream nodded shakily and the blue mech slowly let go. "Come on, I'll prepare skme liquid gold for the three of us, yeah? We have a stash of such things, for special occasions."

"Oh ho, TC's in his creator-friend mode again," Skywarp joked and slapped his servo onto Star's shoulder. The purple-black mech might be overcharged right now and bad at subtlety overall, but he still wanted to be helpful how he can, really.

Actually, Skywarp put their roommate in front of the small, barely functional teleconsole they owned and turned it on. It was some kind of mindless Iaconian-style telenovela. It was usually cheesy stuff, but seemed familiar enough for Starscream to cling onto, alongside letting his qnd Skywarp's wings brush.

Starscream hadn't spoken again this evening, but it did seem he was feeling a bit better with their reassurance. Of course, they were just two mechs, almost nothing compared to the whole fragging Senate and most of Iacon, but it must've meant _something_ to Star.

They fell asleep on the couch together, three dirty cubes and running teleconsole forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you wondered, yes, liquid gold is basically hot cocoa in this universe.
> 
> Anyway! It took me a while to write this chapter, didn't it? I hope it was worth the wait though! I really tried to pace this right, but I'm not sure it worked? Feel free to share your thoughts ^^
> 
> Fun fact, my search history now includes "list of female Decepticons" (I've known Lyzack for only a few days, but if anything happened to her I'd kill everyone in the room and then myself-), "gambling card games", "rules of blackjack" and "likely bar names" lol
> 
> Also also, this chapter was basically why this fic exists. As in, the first stray idea that kicked off me planning this plot was "Pre-war Kaon is like '20s Chicago and I want to see the seekers at a speakesy-style party." 
> 
> Anyway! Hope you enjoyed ;v;


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